


That Damn Brunette with Green Eyes

by inadequatelygrey



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee Shop, F/F, rated g for gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 19:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13864563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inadequatelygrey/pseuds/inadequatelygrey





	That Damn Brunette with Green Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your classic coffee shop clexa with Clarke being a gay mess.

Her fingers ran up the neck of the guitar, playing graceful chords along with added improvised riffs. The acoustic guitar gave off a pleasant ring of vibrant sound as she strummed with a subtle confidence and a grin pulling at her lips, fully relaxed and emerged into the song. The steel strings sound echoed throughout the small cafe as she rested the instrument on her thigh, sitting on a stool in the middle of a platform the establishment considered a stage. The song ended with a fading C chord as the artist shyly lifted her head, her cerulean eyes scanning the area. An appropriate level of applause scattered along the people around. Some were too indulged in their computers or endless textbooks, but that didn't bother Clarke. 

She pushed herself off the stool, craving a small break, and set the guitar carefully in its place on a stand. She pushed the stray blonde hairs that fell out of her bun behind her ear, stepping off the stage. Her roaming eyes caught a glimpse of a woman sitting in the corner. Her eyes seemed locked on Clarke with her hand cupping the side of her face, resting on the table. Her dark green buttoned-up polo signified that she was a worker at the cafe. As of right now, the woman was looking out into space instead of working. It brought a small smile to Clarke's lips, seeing the brunette in such a somewhat-cute daze. The woman must have noticed her sly grin and gaze as her head shot up from her hand and she sat straight in her seat. A light shade of red rested on her cheeks against her light-olive skin. Clarke decided to walk over to the blushing brunette, curiosity peaked. The closer to the women's proximity she got, the more she saw how breathtaking the worker was and she began to question going over to her. She could turn back, but that would be worse. She might as well stick it out. Her noticeable green eyes seemed to widen in surprise from Clarke's impending arrival. Clarke didn't even know what she was going to say. She gripped both her hands in front of her, playing with her hands trying to find some distraction.

"Not working much?" Clarke went with, trying to place a small smile on her face. She inwardly cringed since out of everything she could have said, she went with the lame one. Clarke stood by the table, gripping her fiddling hands in front of her. The brunette adjusted her sitting position and her forest green eyes scanned Clarke quickly, stopping at her eyes.  
"Not at the moment, no," she said with a shake of her head. Her voice was more delicate than Clarke would have expected and suddenly all she wanted to do is hear it more. She also seemed oddly composed, unlike how she was only a few moments ago.  
"You play wonderfully," she spoke again, her words making Clarke beam.  
"Thank you," Clarke responded shyly, trying to capture more astray blonde hairs behind her ear. She felt warm under the woman's stare up close.  
"How long have you been playing?" the girl asked with a tilt of her head. Clarke wasn't sure how the brunette managed to control the conversation considering Clarke was the one who approached her, but she was thankful for the girl's ability to hold a conversation. She seemed like she was genuinely interested and curious.  
"I started in high school, but it wasn't a big priority. Then college came around and I found myself playing more and more. So, uh, 4 years or around there," Clarke somewhat rambled, thinking about it out loud but also offering an answer. Her cheeks began to burn. This stranger was making Clarke uneasy, but she didn't exactly unwelcome it.  
The woman nodded, a smirk tugging at the side of her lips, "do you take requests?" Clarke thought it over for a second. No, she doesn't take requests. Yet when a pretty brunette with dashing eyes and a way too attractive smirks asks, it seems impossible to say no.  
"I do, but I can't play it the day-of. I'd probably make a fool out of myself if I tried," Clarke responded with a small shrug.  
"I'll keep that in mind," she replied. Her green eyes lingered on Clarke's until they drifted to the side of her, her eyebrows scrunching together. Her eyes shifted back to Clarke, her smirk gone. Clarke was confused as to why she missed it immediately.

The brunette began to stand up, smoothing out her black apron, "unfortunately, I have to get back to work. My boss isn't very lenient about breaks over 10 minutes." Clarke nodded in understanding. Clarke was disappointed she didn't ask for her name as she began to head for the counter. How hard is it to say, 'Hi, I'm Clarke. I walked over here for simply no reason. Spontaneity is not a thing of mine, but hey!' Very difficult. That's how difficult and ridiculously insane it is. 

Clarke stood in the same spot and realized she didn't even mutter a goodbye. She looked at the counter, seeing the brunette offer her a small nod and smile. Clarke couldn't help but return the smile. She remained standing until she remembered she needed to finish her set. She glanced at her guitar with a small and quiet huff leaving her mouth. She barely talked to the girl and she was already racing in Clarke's mind. Those piercing green eyes, high cheekbones, and her small smirk. She spoke maybe 30 words at most and Clarke wanted to immediately know more about the brunette rather than her job here. She strode to the stage platform and stepped up, grabbing her guitar and seating herself back on the stool. She looked out to the cafe, the number of people remaining relatively the same, but only one person really caught her eye. 

That damn green-eyed brunette with her head resting on her hand once again, watching Clarke attentively from behind the counter. It flustered Clarke to no end as she began to pluck at the metal strings feeling her unrelenting gaze the entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to attempt a full fic. It will be short, but hopefully satisfying. Any constructive criticism is highly welcomed.


End file.
